I could never quite figure out if he was admiring the night skies, or if he was just deep in thought or prayer. I asked him once, and his answer was simply, "Is there a difference"?
Today's blog is looking at one simple sentence on page 5 of The Visitor. In this sentence, the narrator is providing the reader a glimpse into the thoughts of the Visitor. But it is more complex than that. Ready for the next deep dive into interpretation?
First off, I know that currently there are less than 75 people following this blog on and off. And I am more than pleased with that. If there is one person who one night finds something within this blog, than that is success. And I can guarantee you that there is at least one person, even if that one person is me, the author of The Visitor and The Corvus Chronicles.
As I have explained to my wife, I am constantly struggling to interpret what I have written. Over the 18 months it took to draft the first 90 pages which makes up The Visitor (one of the eight books which together make up The Corvus Chronicles) I tried to come to grips with a story that is much bigger than myself. The story folds in on itself and has very many layers. The easy part is understanding there are two separate stories which run parallel to each other at the same time. A Love Story, and a Story of Love.
The book itself is set up to deal with a procession of Life. From basic needs, to family, to society, to values, to Faith and beyond this fleshy existence. But even within the various sections, poetic parables, paragraphs and individual sentences there are interactions which are occurring which the reader will not notice. Some are cryptic (such as actual names), some are illustrated by a change in font, some by a misspelling, some by a change in language or pattern of expected rhyme. All those are the more apparent stumbling blocks which are meant to trip the reader up, to slow the reader down and to take note.
However, just as many instances occur that run so smooth they will not be noticed. This is the case with the simple sentence - I could never quite figure out if he was admiring the night skies, or if he was just deep in thought or prayer. I asked him once, and his answer was simply, "Is there a difference"?
In this exchange, there are two people who are both in active in their own experiences. The exchange of the question tells us they are "together", but prior to the exchange (the question and answer), both are in their own space. We can assume that if the narrator is thinking, and the Visitor is in thought or prayer that prior to the exchange their is silence.
In the void of silence we are witness to what we all experience daily. Our thoughts, and how they can be consumed by thinking about someone else, while someone else is not necessarily thinking about us. In this case, the narrator is wondering what the Visitor is thinking about, (or even if the Visitor is thinking). The Visitor while answering the question does not provide a direct or maybe even expected answer. We know that it was never fully answered, since the entire novel is written after the passing of the Visitor, yet the fact is that the narrator is still saying, "I could never quite figure out.."
Two different experiences, yet a shared experience. To different perspectives yielded in one exchange. How can we be so close as to have an intimate exchange yet still at the exact same moment be so alone that our interpretations of the event are not the same, nor even necessarily understood?
Even when we think communication and a shared understanding has been achieved, we are witness to the way the narrator tells the story that it wasn't. Even after the death of the Visitor, he had still not figured out whether the Visitor was just admiring the stars, in thought, or in prayer. Yet most readers will not notice this exchange is not complete, no common understanding is arrived at, and we really only get insights into what the narrator is thinking. The Visitor's response is "assumed" to mean something, but what that means can differ greatly between different people.
Is there a difference between admiring the skies or praying? Does it depend on the person and the situation? Can both be done at the same time? Is there a difference between being deep in thought and praying? Is there always a difference? Can you be deep in thought while admiring the skies?
What is the connection, even symbolically speaking between using the term "the heavens" to describe the starry skies and "heaven" as it is used in religious dialogue?
Stars themselves are referenced numerous times in the Bible, for example: Ishaiah 40:26
Lift your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.
This line makes it pretty obvious that you can do all three things at the same time. "Lift your eyes and look at the heavens (so looking at the stars). Who created all these? (thought). Recognizing the power and the might and the strenghth (prayer).
“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world…
— PSALM 19:1-4”
To the Visitor, it may very well be that there is no difference. Admiring the beauty of the heavens, to think about the world, the universe and beyond, and to be amazed and in awe can all be the same thing as prayer, thought and admiration occurring simultaneously. To the Visitor, it may very well be hard not to entertain all these things at once in almost a gestalt manner.
Can you separate the thoughts? Can you separate your actions? From the context of the Visitor, the argument would probably be no. Proof for this comes in the poetic parable on Religion where the Visitor is quoted as having said -
Who can be true in their words and their ways
And separate their Faith from their actions?
Who can divide the moments of their day:
“This be for God, and this for my passions?”
The Visitor would argue that you can't separate Faith from your actions, and does not limit what those actions are. Therefor those actions would include both thought and prayer. This is one of the defining differences between "hope" and "Faith". Faith is all consuming and cannot be divided between the moments of the day. It is constant.
If the narrator actually understood the Visitor's answer, he would have been able to understand, that to the Visitor, there is no difference, and if he truly understood what that meant, he would not still be wondering (or even have asked the question in the first place).
This explains part of the reason the Visitor questions whether he can be an instrument of the message, and whether anyone would ever understand what he is saying. His doubt in relaying a message that people cannot hear is shared many times within the 90 pages of The Visitor.
Even as the author I still struggle with the simple exchange, so the narrator as a character of the story can hardly be blamed for not being able to fully understand. As such, it may be even harder for the reader to fully comprehend this exchange. Words are simply inadequate.
But Faith is that someone, somewhere, someday will understand. As Mulder would have said while looking up at the skys, "The truth is out there...or...I want to Believe."
There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars…”— LUKE 21:25
Until next time....Journey In Love
Michael Paul